Frayed Knots and Silly Strings
by Alcoremortis
Summary: Oneshots and drabbles, get'cher oneshots and drabbles. Tidbits that could have or might have happened during the first Avengers, the interim, or the second film. Slight AU, as I wrote this a year and a half ago on minimal information, just really bad with deadlines. Super sorry about the lame title pun, I couldn't resist a string reference after those trailers. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wrote this about a year and a half ago, so highly AU to AoU, highly based off of random scenes from obscure comic books, though it's still largely canon consistent to anything prior to AoU. Except for this first one... and a few others down the line. So, only minor spoilers for AoU and only things that you could easily figure out from watching the trailers. I wrote this largely as an exercise in non-sequential writing, so nothing's in a strict chronological order, just the order that I thought made the most dramatic sense.

With that out of the way...

~~First Short~~

"You know," said Tony Stark, sidling over to Dr. Banner, "I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart."

He stopped for a moment and tapped the protruding metal beneath his shirt, "This stops it. This little circle of light. It's part of me now, not just armor. It's a... terrible privilege."

He gave a little smile. As modestly inspiring speeches went, it hadn't been that bad, he thought.

Banner raised an eyebrow incredulously, "I... don't suppose you've ever had to go on the run to keep the government from getting their hands on that thing, have you?"

Somewhat taken aback, Stark fumbled, "Well, not as such..."

"And you've never had to worry about it going critical and possibly killing everyone around you? Or at the very least, causing a hefty chunk of property damage?"

"Of course not! I was directly involved in-"

"And you're still a multi-billionaire, right?"

"Yes, but-"

Banner interrupted him again, "I... uh, think we should stop swapping sob stories now. If it's all the same to you."

Well, thought Stark, as he wandered back over to his corner of the lab, that had _not_ gone as well as he'd hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

~~Second Short~~

It was a press conference, reporters from every major newspaper of nearly every major nation currently crowded into the convention center... and Tony Stark was not there.

It had been a tough decision to leave the center stage for the balcony. Stark absolutely loved crowds, especially when they were there to talk about how brilliant he was and how fantastically useful his inventions were... but after a long hard mental debate, he'd decided that it was time to take a step out of the spotlight.

Stark had to admit... he couldn't even claim heavy lifting credit on this one. Banner was more than capable of lifting the heavy things on his own. Not that this project had had much lifting to begin with. Banner's design for a radiation suit that actually neutralized the radiation it came into contact with was, in a word, inspired. It made Stark wonder what else the man could accomplish when he wasn't constantly on the run.

Well, after this press conference, he might very well find out. Supposing, of course, that his security measures worked. Which they would. He'd covered every angle. Probably.

"Tony! There you are!" Pepper's anxious voice cut through his quiet contemplation as she stormed over to him, gorgeous emerald evening dress flapping around her ankles with each stride.

"Hm?" he responded absent-mindedly.

"You have got to get back in there! Bruce is chewing through those sedatives you gave him like they were candy."

"Oh, don't worry about it," he said breezily, "He can handle it. Also, you wouldn't be that far off with that comparison."

Pepper, who had, for a moment, looked like she was about to interrupt, suddenly froze.

"Candy... you gave him sugar pills?!"

There was definitely a note of panic in her voice.

"Tony, how on earth could you do that? You know what could happen if he gets too nervous! And he already mentioned he's not too good with crowds!"

Stark just waved her down, "He would have been completely useless if they were actually sedatives. Anyways, the placebo effect has been shown to work very effectively for most people, especially with conditions involving anxiety."

"Tony," said Pepper in a very serious tone, "Bruce isn't most people. And did you even bother to consider what might happen when he runs out of those things? By the rate he was going through that bottle, I'd give him about two minutes."

There was an incredibly noticeable silence as Stark began to feel a slight sense of unease himself.

"You know... I hadn't actually thought of that."

"Obviously. Now get in there before-"

She was interrupted by an animalistic roar, closely followed by the unmistakable sound of crashing glass and panicked screams, the latter presumably belonging to the reporters of every major newspaper from nearly every major nation.

"I'll... ah, go get the suit," he stumbled.

"Yeah, you go get the suit."


	3. Chapter 3

~~Third Short~~

The destruction was tremendous. Of course, it probably always was, but he normally wasn't still around to see it.

But this time, for whatever reason, he hadn't gotten very far afterwards and the first sign of civilization that he'd come across were the ruins of the small town he'd just left. The only buildings still standing in any capacity were the tiny chapel and the jail... and even those had lost plenty of roof shingles and all of their windows. The rest of the houses and civil buildings were splinters and rubble now.

His stomach did a flip turn as his bare foot brushed against something soft amid all the jagged wreckage and but he forced himself to look down. A doll. He breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he'd thought it would turn out to be a person. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle that now. He knelt down next to its tiny body, stuffing poking out of dozens of small rips, and brushed aside some of the debris. He hoped the girl this belonged to was all right... and then felt sick at the very real possibility that she wasn't.

The dozens of bullet casings surrounding the toy told their own story. And the pistol itself, which a quick look revealed had been dropped before the owner could fire off his entire clip.

He turned the weapon delicately with his hands as he examined it. It always ended up like this, didn't it? A year ago, he'd felt hopeful. Maybe not fully in control, but at least capable of keeping a lid on it for most eventualities... aiming for places where he couldn't do much damage when he couldn't manage.

And now it felt like he was right back at the beginning again, the illusion of control shattered by just one bad day. And he couldn't even remember what had triggered this.

"(Doctor Bancroft? Doctor Bancroft?)" the young man's voice disrupted his train of thought, "(Thank God you're alright! The search party was worried... we think we've accounted for most everyone, but we're still out looking.)"

Ah... Pedro. One of the newer nurses at what used to be the hospital, now probably a pile of kindling.

"(D-did anyone get hurt?)" he managed to force out in response. He didn't want to know. But he still had to.

Pedro grew solemn, "(Bruises, scrapes, broken bones mostly. Doctor Vasquez has three that she's not sure will make it, but I wouldn't give up hope yet. The doctor can fix anything.)"

 _She shouldn't have had to fix anything._

Instead, he nodded, and found himself fiddling with the pistol. It was always the same cycle, he could see this now. He could do everything in his power to stop it and he'd still just end up leaving a path of destruction in his wake. Every single time...

"(Doctor Bancroft... do you know what that thing was?)" Pedro asked.

"(Yes...)" Banner responded slowly, thwacking the pistol lightly against his palm, "(...and I'm going to kill it.)"


	4. Chapter 4

~~Fourth Short~~

"...Now this actually isn't glass, it's a transparent vibranium alloy, courtesy of Dr. Richards. At one centimeter thick, it can withstand the pressure of eighteen thousand cubic feet of water... and this is five inches thick. The frame is solid adamantium and has been stress tested at fifty tons. Should all else fail, well..."

Nick Fury gestured at the big, imposing red button on his control panel. 

"Let's just say it's a looooong way down. Any questions, Dr. Banner?"

Dr. Bruce Banner carefully scrutinized the cage, one hand on his chin, finger tapping his lip as he looked it over. And Fury, for his part, never let his gaze wander from the man. He 'trusted' Banner, sure, the nuclear physicist didn't have a malicious bone in his body from what Fury could tell... but it didn't change the fact that he was pretty much a walking time bomb. There had definitely been a long conversation with Maria discussing the merits and disadvantages of showing this cage to Banner, but she'd eventually won out. And he'd forced himself to agree. If Banner didn't know of its existence or consent to its use, it was worse than useless.

Finally, Banner spoke, "I've just got to ask. How did you intend on getting me into this thing?"

"Hm?" asked Fury, momentarily jerked out of his thoughts.

"The cage," he elaborated, tone slightly tighter than normal, "By the time it would be necessary, I doubt I'd be very… um... cooperative?"

"We were, ah, hoping that you might come here if you started to feel... you know..."

"Angry? Perturbed? Ticked off?"

There was definitely a hint of all of those emotions in his tone.

Fury shrugged, trying to keep as neutral as possible, "More or less. It was more of a last resort. And frankly, our insurance rates would have tripled if we didn't try something."

Banner crossed his arms for a moment, looking back at the cage, before he turned back to Fury. Slowly, he removed his glasses and began to polish them on the hem of his shirt.

"Commander Fury," he began, speaking almost in time to his glasses polishing, "I've listened carefully to your schematics and materials and so on... Do you know exactly how much time and effort it would take me to bust out of your very impressive cage?"

"How much?"

Banner put his glasses back on and leaned in close, "None at all."

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and left without another word.

Fury gave a small sigh of relief. Well, one of the benefits of being a somewhat secret military organization was that the taxpayers would probably never find out about this...


	5. Chapter 5

~~Fifth Short~~

Suits? Destroyed. Arc reactor in his chest? Gone. Complications from Extremis? Zip. Alien threats to the planet? Nada. Crazy government conspiracies? Zilch.

Tony Stark was officially bored.

Sure there were always plenty of things to do when one headed a multi-billion dollar international firm, but Pepper seemed to do a fine job of handling most of them by herself. Better even. He'd tinkered a bit... but with Extremis in his system, and no little dark clouds hanging on the horizon, it hardly seemed necessary anymore.

That and his lawyers had politely informed him that the United States government, while very grateful to him for saving the president, were incredibly uneasy with the idea of an artificial intelligence having the ability to control forty weapons of mass destruction. So uneasy, in fact, that it might be a very good idea to pretend that the Iron Man armor didn't exist for the next... forever.

While Tony Stark normally paid his lawyers about as much attention as one might a passing leaf, they had, in this particular case, made a certain amount of sense. And while Stark Industries was doing quite well in the realm of green energy, he knew that they weren't nearly doing well enough to challenge an entire country, especially over something that wasn't really a priority at the moment.

But, even so, this knowledge didn't make him any less bored.

So of course the thing to do was to bother Banner. It was probably about time he checked up on the guy. Sure they'd hung out a few times, gone out to some sedate entertainment (by his standards), told life-stories (90% had been Tony's... the other 10% had been about people that Tony knew), but he was becoming gradually aware that several million dollars had been sunk into that lab and he hadn't actually checked to see exactly where it was going.

In any case, it had been ten months. There should probably be some progress, right?

He strode into the lab, pleased to see a good amount of clutter and technological gadgets spread about. That was always a good sign. The fact that Banner was not in it was... slightly less promising. Granted, it was three in the morning, and it suddenly struck him that this was not a normal working time for most people.

Still, couldn't hurt to poke around a bit.

Most of the stuff was hard to figure out out of context, mainly seeming to be various control panels and such, some sort of disassembled rod-thing, and a curious floating orb that appeared to be completely made out of hard light. Tony knew better than to poke it… but the temptation was there, regardless. Just a peek, then.

However, as he moved to examine it closer, he heard a small sound coming from the adjoining room, Banner's apartment.

 _Ba-bing!_

It was followed by several others in close succession.

 _Ba-bingba-bingba-bing!_

The mystery orb forgotten, Tony slowly crept towards the door and carefully, with two fingers, pressed it open, throwing caution-and also potential trespassing litigation-to the wind.

Banner's apartment, Tony decided could only be described by the word "mancave". Bookcases, stuffed with books and DVDs, magazines stacked up on the coffee table, a couch and TV placed in the center stage with surround sound speakers (probably). Hell, there was even a dart board.

And in the middle of it all, sat Banner, stretched out on the couch, feet on the table as he lazily tapped away at a console controller.

 _Ba-bingba-bingba-bing!_

Tony cleared his throat slightly, by way of announcing his presence, causing Banner to abruptly up before returning to his game.

"I'd love to chit-chat, Tony," he said, not taking his eyes off the game, "but I'm afraid I don't have time. New episode of Doctor Who comes out in two days."

Tony winced. It was becoming quite apparent that brevity was possibly one of the few things he was slightly less awesome at.

"Actually," he replied, "I was just dropping by to check in… you know, see what you've been doing all this time. You know. Ten months, couple million dollars…"

He shrugged.

"Well…" started Banner, lifting the controller slightly, "I was trying to do a hundred percent completion run of Ocarina of Time just now. They say that it's never as good as when you were eleven… but since I wasn't eleven when it came out, I guess it holds up alright. Been going through the last five years of journals, too…"

He jerked his head at the stack of magazines sitting next to him on the couch.

"You'd be surprised how it all piles up. Not to mention all the TV shows… movies… books… I'm shocked how much I missed out on. I mean, look at this!" he pulled a DVD from the shelf, "Modern Sherlock Holmes, unbelievable!"

Tony blinked, trying to process what had just happened. Banner, who had just been sitting on couch seconds before, was now well across the room, already replacing the DVD he'd grabbed to it's rightful spot on his shelf. And with another blink he was back on the couch.

"Wait, wait, wait a minute!" he exclaimed, waving his hands for a breather, "Back up. What the hell was that?"

Banner looked confused for a moment, before replying slowly, "Sherlock DVD? It's a pretty good show, actually."

"No, no," Tony waved off the explanation, "That… jumpy thing. That you just did right there."

He really hoped this wasn't three in the morning playing tricks on him.

"Oh yeah, that!" chuckled Banner, who 'jumped' again to appear next to Tony, waggling what looked to be an incredibly complicated wristwatch at him, "Sorry, totally forgot I had it on. That would be the short-range teleporter. Still working out a few kinks in the spatial displacement algorithm, actually, so I've just been wearing it around to bug test. You know how it is."

"Kinks?" he asked hesitantly. From his basic sci-fi knowledge of how teleportation was supposed to work, kinks were not a good sign.

"Well, at the moment, the calculations take too long for a computer to do quickly enough for short rapid jumps. I've been trying to streamline it a bit," after a moment, he hurriedly added, "Well, actually, the computer can do it in time… but at low accuracy. And by that, I'd say... you're looking at maybe losing a few fingers every thousandth trip or so."

"And you're just… wearing it around your apartment," Tony stated, wanting to be clear about this, "Jumping back and forth."

He didn't like to think like this… but if Banner injured himself playing around with this thing, suddenly it would become everyone's problem. And he meant everyone's problem.

"Haven't lost anything yet," Banner smirked, "But I'm also double-checking the numbers it comes up with before committing to a jump. Totally safe. In fact, I'm thinking I could probably upgrade it for long distance travel. Hook it up to the GPS satellites or something to scan for a good landing spot."

Tony suddenly had a mind's eye image of an enraged surprise Hulk, missing three fingers, popping up in a random American city. He immediately tried to banish this image.

"Guess it could work," he said, before quickly moving on, "So, that it?"

Banner grinned, cheekily, "Follow me."

Thankfully, he walked through the door to the lab instead of popping out of existence again.

"So, the rest is in prototype mode mainly. This," he picked up the rod Tony had been examining earlier, "Should be able to stun pretty damn near anything… including Asgardians and other similarly powered entities. Just in case we have another problem in that regard. Needs to be toned down a bit… at the moment, I think it might be lethal."

He put it down moved on quickly to the orb which he didn't touch, "This is a very early prototype. Personal forcefield, should hold up even against Thor… the only problem is it doesn't let even individual molecules through… so that's a bit of problem since it would be nice to, well, breathe when you're not being pounded. Also, I haven't figured out how to turn it off. So that needs work."

He whirled around to a screen in the corner that Tony hadn't noticed earlier.

"Now this… this is the most complete... actually, all that needs work is the sizing and that's more of an engineering problem. And I think you'll like it," he pulled out what appeared to be a spandex suit, though the myriad of flexible tubes pumping some mystery liquid through its exterior pointed to a more advanced function.

"Radiation suit," he explained, "Now, this doesn't just protect you completely from any kind of radiation… it absorbs it from the environment. So, you walk through an area with residual radiation… maybe an old nuclear power plant… cleans it right up. Now habitable for anyone. Doesn't do anything for the nuclear waste itself, since that's a whole other kettle of fish, but definitely has practical uses."

Tony nodded appreciatively but before he could say anything Banner tossed the suit aside and went on with his show and tell.

"Aaaand… I was saving this for last, since this needs some other things to get finished before it's really complete… but I think you should know about it," Banner had adopted a much more serious tone as he tugged back the curtain at the back to reveal… a suit.

The design obviously took cues from Tony's own Iron Man suits, but it was much larger, much bulkier than any of his designs. A small part of his brain supplied the phrase 'less efficient'. In fact, it reminded him a little of Stane's monstrosity in terms of sheer girth. It made him wonder how Banner had been able to construct the thing without AI assistance… and if it would even work.

"It's big," he said eventually, after searching for an appropriately neutral reaction.

"Yup," agreed Banner, "Weighs a couple of tons as well. Actually, it was originally designed as an exoskeleton for one of your usual suits… but then it seems they all got destroyed… somehow."

He treated Tony to a Look before continuing, "Anyways, I worked around that. Should be fine to wear with or without a suit."

Tony looked it up and down, 'less efficient' still running through his mind.

"So… um… what does it do? Exactly."

"Well…" began Banner, "It amplifies the wearer's strength by somewhere around a thousand times normal."

 _Hm… interesting._

"Does it fly?" he asked.

"Nope, too heavy. I'd have to make it a plane at this point to get it off the ground. Can get up to sixty miles per hour with running land speed, though."

Which didn't even come close to the speed of even the most hastily made of his old suits.

"Weapons?"

"Probably just one. I was going to add on the god-taser-that's what I call it, by the way-to the arms once that's done. Also, should have the personal shield when that's ready. I was going to add in the teleporter as well… but there's just too many ways that could go wrong if it gets damaged in combat."

Combat. Banner… was actually serious about this thing? It was a literal deathtrap.

"Uh… Bruce… buddy," he started slowly, really hating what he was about to say, "I'm… not sure I can use this."

Banner didn't seem overly perturbed by this announcement as he simply shrugged, "I figured you'd say that… but, I also didn't really intend for this to be for normal fights. In fact… I hope you never have to use it. But I had to show you or else it does no good. Also... you never asked what its name is."

The rest of what Banner said passed right over Tony as all he could think of was: Good grief, it has a name?

"Alright, shoot," he said, "What's it called?"

Banner replied with a single word.

"Hulkbuster."

 _...Maybe he could work with that._


	6. Chapter 6

~~Sixth Short~~

It was barely a full eight hours since the newly-dubbed Battle for New York had ended when Tony Stark rapped on Banner's door, not even waiting for an answer before letting himself in.

"So, you coming?" he asked breezily, conveniently ignoring the fact that Banner was lying on the bed with both eyes firmly closed.

Slowly, Banner cracked open one eye, before sighing heavily and pulling himself up into a sitting position.

"Oh, don't worry, it's alright. I only needed about five minutes of sleep anyways," he grumbled, "Going where?"

"Shwarema?" reminded Tony in a mock-offended tone, "Remember? Little celebratory deal and all that?"

He stopped abruptly, clearly remembering himself why Banner might not remember the plan.

"Oh… right. You were… not really paying attention then. Little restaurant. Shwarema, going to find out what it is. You in?"

Banner give his pillow a lingering look before replying, "Does this really need to happen _right_ this minute?"

"Everyone's ready, just waiting on you."

Banner blinked.

"Everyone…?" he paused, "As in… _everyone_? Is… Natasha going to be there?"

"Um… yes? Last I checked, she's part of everyone," Tony replied, "So, come on. Let's go!"

Banner hesitated, wincing slightly, "Ehhh… maybe I'll give this one a pass. Got a lot of stuff… sleeping to do…"

He began to lie back down.

"Woah, woah, woah," interrupted Tony, "You can't back out! This is, like, our big reunion!"

Banner raised an eyebrow.

"Okay… an eight hour reunion," he amended, "What is it about Natasha anyways?"

Banner shrugged, "I… I don't think she likes me."

Tony practically barked out a laugh, "Really? That's it? Look. Bruce. I _know_ she doesn't like _me_. But after yesterday? Pretty sure that's changed."

"Okaaaaaaay," Banner sucked in a breath, "Let me rephrase that. I don't think _I_ like _her_."

The smile practically melted off Tony's face.

"I get that. Well… I trust her about as far as…" he paused for a moment, thinking, "Barton could throw her… but she also closed the portal. Regardless, she's part of the team, you know?"

"Well, I've never really been much of a team player," Banner replied with a wry smile.

After a moment, he continued, "She lied to me. Repeatedly. Every word, every explanation… even the goddamn cage. And then when it came down to it, she thinks _I'm_ the monster. I don't need more of that."

"I can't change your mind on this?"

"Not likely."

Tony stood silent for a moment.

"Well…" he said, eventually, "I guess you can stay. It's a shame though. I mean, I _really_ wanted everyone to be there to celebrate. You start valuing people, you know, when you commit a heroic act of self-sacrifice and almost _die_ -"

"Oh fine, fine," interrupted Banner, waving his arms, "You guilted me into it… I'll go get ready."

He heaved himself off the bed and headed out the door, pausing right before he exited.

"You owe me for this, though."

Tony only allowed himself a satisfied, self-congratulatory smirk after he was completely certain Banner had left.

"One down, four to go," he murmured to himself as he wandered off to his next target.


	7. Chapter 7

~~Seventh Short~~

On the outside, Natasha Romanov was relaxing easily in one of the chairs of Tony Stark's breakfast nook, both feet casually on the table as she managed to pull off both a look of smug superiority and complete boredom.

On the inside, in some small nook of her innermost self, there was a tingle of doubt, a touch of apprehension. It wasn't anything to do with her little espionage assignment for the day. That was practically routine: make sure two of the most brilliant men on the planet weren't about to cause the next apocalypse through some doomsday device and/or extreme tensions made more extreme through close proximity. She'd faced life or death situations countless times over… most of them didn't get her heart rate over sixty-five beats per minute.

Now, however, she was pushing seventy. And she knew exactly why.

It wasn't because of the gap in intellect either. She might not be able to pull Coulomb barrier limits out of thin air, but she knew she was no idiot. She'd taken the tests, rated somewhere near a genius IQ. Also higher than she would have liked on the sociopathy index, but that was a completely different matter entirely.

Nope, the reason was-

"Romanov, here bright and early, I see. Pleasure's all yours."

Not Tony Stark. She could take him. Even his fancy suit was susceptible to a few well-paced EMPs.

"Fury wants to make sure you two haven't blown up the world yet," she drawled in response, not moving from her position, "Apparently, looking out a window just isn't doing it for him anymore."

"Well, as you can see, world's still here," he smirked, with a wide gesture at the rest of the room, "Satisfied?"

She returned his smirk, but with a careful measure of not letting it reach her eyes, "Hardly."

Tony Stark shrugged, quickly stuffing a bagel in his mouth before immediately grabbing the salt and sugar shakers off the table and bounding over to the kitchenette, where he proceeded to pour their entire contents into separate bowls.

Natasha raised an eyebrow that was practically audible in its apprehension.

Tony removed the bagel, one bite missing as he quickly swallowed.

"Bruce will be here in," he glanced at his watch, "Five minutes. Give or take… always takes some decaf. Today… well, it's going to be a bit more of a jolt."

Natasha's other eyebrow rose to join the first as she shot back, "See, this is _exactly_ the sort of thing Fury's perturbed about."

He began carefully pouring the two powders into their opposite containers.

"Nah, he can handle it," Tony replied blithely the moment the shakers were indistinguishably tampered with, "He's got that thing under far more control than either you or Fury seem to realize."

Natasha opened her mouth, nearly about to retort with something about the potential danger before she caught it… the glint of an opening. More control… the event at the press conference…

"Or you," she shot back, the smugness now not just an act, "Still bitter about the press conference?"

"How did you-" he started before he suddenly froze, holding up a solitary finger, as he began concentrating as if listening to a conversation she couldn't hear. Which was probably exactly what was happening, given he'd started permanently wearing a comlink to JARVIS.

After a short moment he turned back to her, "Something's come up, gotta go. Don't let him drink the coffee before I get back!"

And with that, he dashed off to the elevator, leaving her alone once again to mull over the implications.

They were… interesting.

She didn't have long to mull before the sound of footsteps alerted her to another presence. They were close together, soft shoes… not Tony. Which only left...

"Natasha," came Banner's voice softly from behind her.

Not accusatory or aggressive… just a statement of fact. Still, it sent very small shivers down her spine. She never knew what to expect from him, which was a constant source of annoyance… but also a tinge of apprehension… that no matter how good her training, she could very well misread the situation in a catastrophic manner. The added stress of knowing such a misreading could cause an… incident, didn't help things any.

"Bruce," she replied easily with a quick fake smile as she turned to face him, "What a pleasant surprise… how've you been doing?"

He gave her a brief look before heading directly for the coffee machine, "Heart rate hasn't been a beat over eighty in months, blood pressure's normal… and yes, this is decaf. Actually…"

He turned from the machine to look back at her, leaning against the counter.

"I should thank you, really," he bit out, "Now that my picture's been trending on twitter along with _all_ my personal information, it's a lot easier to get work done. I mean, I don't have all those distractions to deal with anymore. You know, going outside and stuff... really cuts down on productivity. It's been… really... _great_."

He went back to pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Natasha winced inwardly. She'd been too preoccupied with the world's reaction to _her_ … hadn't even given someone like him a second thought. Then again, his past was easily more forgivable than some of the things she'd done. He had, after all, done everything in his power to keep himself under control… she'd just let loose and enjoyed every second.

It still disgusted her.

"Glad to be of assistance," she replied dryly, leaning back in her chair even further, "So, what's a girl gotta do around here to get a cup of coffee?"

But she still couldn't help poking the lion. It really was a terrible habit.

"Wait til Tony comes back?" shrugged Banner, "He doesn't really like people touching his…"

He trailed off, his eye catching the two bowls that had been left on the counter. After a moment, he touched a fingertip to the residue within and then to his tongue, hastily spitting it out.

"Goddammit, Tony," he muttered, quickly ferrying his coffee to the breakfast table before grabbing the salt and sugar shakers and swapping the contents, once again by the respective bowls.

"Six months he's been trying to get one over on me and it wasn't even funny the first time he failed," he continued as he deftly finished up the swap with practiced ease.

"Press conference, huh?" she nodded knowingly, hoping that teasing the info out wasn't some secret trigger. Tiptoeing on a minefield came to mind.

"One lousy prank," he sighed, "Granted… I never thought Tony would freak out as much as he did, much less on national television, but he did get to show off his new modifications to the Hulkbuster suit. And the reporters thought it was all staged anyways. Honestly, I think he just didn't like having to be the serious one for once."

Natasha allowed herself an actual genuine smile, "I would have loved to see _that_."

To her surprise, Banner flashed a slight smile back as he set the shakers back on the table.

"It _was_ pretty priceless," he replied, with not a small bit of smugness, "Really, I just did it because of the sugar pills he forced on me."

Now _that_ was a bit of the story she hadn't heard.

"Sugar pills?"

"Well, he told me they were sedatives," he explained as he shook the sugar into his coffee, "But after you live with Tony for awhile, you learn that if he hands you a bottle of unmarked pills and tells you they're one thing… it's _probably_ a good idea to run one through a mass spec and make sure there aren't any surprises. Because… I don't deal well with surprises. When I saw sucrose ratios in the peaks… I just had to mess with him."

Natasha nodded appreciatively, "I think I might have done something similar in that situation."

Banner raised an eyebrow, "No offense… but you don't strike me as the pranking type."

She allowed herself another smirk, "Neither do you."

And left it at that. It always paid off to be suitably vague. And Sitwell had never uncovered the mystery of his cursed blue screening computer. It had been the work of a moment to download the screensaver and a source of entertainment for years coming up with new and inventive ways to turn it on without him noticing.

The memory made her cringe inwardly. Not only had he turned out to be Hydra… he'd also had to be practically scraped off the freeway after his encounter with the speeding semi.

And this was why she didn't like to look back. Too much introspection was a surefire way to lose yourself in the past and probably end up dead.

But Banner was already talking again, "Well, it only really worked because the reporters didn't really know who I was. Now… probably wouldn't be able to pull it off without causing an international incident."

"And as we all know, you actively try to avoid those," she replied, the twinge of guilt back again, "If it's any consolation, I've been living in a shooting gallery for the past few months."

"A... shooting gallery?"

"Blew every cover I had when I released that data," she said easily, leaning back in her chair even further, "Suddenly, there's a _lotta_ angry, _powerful_ people out there and they've got a face and a name to blame."

To his credit, Banner immediately glanced out the window… and she could see him mark one of the assassins who'd tailed her. Granted, he'd missed the other five, but still impressive… for a novice.

"And you led them _here_?"

"They won't try anything. Not with you here. They _really_ don't want to piss you off."

"So… basically, what you're saying is they don't know me very well."

"Yowch," Natasha winced, "Spare my feelings at least a _little_."

"No, no, no, no, no," Banner hastily backtracked, waving his hands furiously, "I didn't mean it like- I try to stay in control here, alright?"

"Uh... huh," she nodded slowly, giving him knowing grin, "So, basically I'm not worth getting mad over, is that it?"

"No!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, "Well... yes. Sorta. But you make it sound way worse."

He paused for a moment before stating flatly, "You're screwing with me."

She kept up the smirk, "Fun, isn't it?"

He held her gaze for a moment before turning back to the coffee, swirling it in the mug, "I don't even know what to say to that."

She didn't get a chance to respond as the whirlwind that was Tony Stark blew back into the room.

"Nice to see you two kids playing along nicely," he beamed before glancing at Banner, "Enjoying your coffee?"

"Haven't had a chance to actually drink any yet."

"You should. Coffee's important for the science," Tony replied as he poured himself a cup, "Pretty sure my efficiency would drop… twelve percent without caffeine. Maybe more."

"Yeah… this is decaf," said Banner pointedly, but Tony just brushed over him.

"Hey, is that you on TV?" he asked abruptly, looking pointedly at the screen behind Banner, which was indeed hosting an early morning talkshow featuring a prominent Hulk picture… and a slightly less prominent one of the man himself, the hosts speaking in animated voices punctuated with laughter.

"Again?" he groaned wearily as he turned to look, "You'd think they'd find something more interesting discuss in detail for an hour with commercial breaks. I mean, how often can you say 'He's a menace' before it starts being old news?"

The moment Banner had turned, Tony grabbed the salt shaker and gave his own coffee a few good shakes, carefully replacing it before the other man turned around.

"Have you even seen the shows they run on me?" said Tony raising his mug, "Haven't done the playboy thing in... six years and they _still_ speculate on who's dating me. But drink up, Bruce, big day ahead."

Banner rolled his eyes in response, but picked up the mug, hesitating slightly. Tony, on the other hand, immediately took a giant gulp… which he instantly sprayed across the table.

"Yeeeeurggh!" he continued to spit the salty coffee for a moment before narrowing his gaze on Banner for a full moment.

"Son of a bitch," he stated, before running off, presumably to get a glass of water or something.

Politely, Banner waited until he'd gotten out of earshot before chuckling into his own mug. Natasha was far less subtle, allowing herself a short coughing laugh, rusty from lack of use. Soon they were both laughing far too hard for the joke… before slowly dying down.

Their eyes met.

"Did… did we just have a moment?" she asked.

"I think we did," he replied, "That was kinda weird."

"No," she nodded slowly, "I think it was… nice."

"Nice," he repeated, dubiously.

"You know," she said, sucking at her cheek, "People probably wouldn't bother you that much if you were to go out with a… friend."

"Friends," he raised both eyebrows, "That what this is?"

She ignored him.

"And certain people would be certainly less likely to give me trouble in the presence of a-"

"Horrible rage monster?" he supplied, before she could finish.

"-friend," she said.

He blinked in surprise, staring at her for a long minute, most likely gauging her tone and sincerity. He could gauge all he liked, he'd only see what she wanted him to.

"I'll consider it," he said finally.

Natasha already knew his answer would end up being a yes.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Things start getting decently AU from here on out. Also, this one should probably be a crossover since, full disclosure, I blatantly stole the idea from Angel. Blatantly.

~~Eighth Short~~

It was bad manners to listen in on private conversations, Steve Rogers knew… but he'd made the mistake of pausing before opening the door and now… well, now it just didn't feel right to intrude. That and given the two who were arguing on the other side, an intrusion might turn an already volatile situation completely explosive.

"That's what you don't seem to understand!" shouted Banner, "Human ingenuity! Maybe you've been off playing at being Tesla so long that you think you're the only one with ideas here, but there's other people out there making miracles as we speak."

"Okay, first of all, I'm so far beyond Tesla that really, that comparison should go the other way around," retorted Tony, "Second. Human ingenuity? Didn't really make much of a showing at New York."

"Because the alien technology was already here, speeding things up with a giant portal," snapped Banner, "You can't claim that as an example. Beaming thousands of giant marshmallows into a major city would have had the same effect! A _real_ invasion would have-"

"So you're saying New York wasn't real?"

"I wasn't saying that. I was-"

"No, you totally were. You specifically were referencing a "real" invasion, implying that New York wasn't."

"Fine. _Another_ invasion. Satisfied? Any _other_ type of invasion would have been slower and more foreseeable. Hell, even this one could have been stopped, if they just sent the nuke in the other direction. No need for a special suit of armor, just a big rocket."

"Which there wasn't time for," Tony pointed out.

"Only because it wasn't the first line of defense. But we're beside the point. There are _options_."

"Yes. Options. And I'm making more of them as we speak. By the way, what have you been doing with your time, Bruce?"

"Personal attack because you don't have a leg to stand on? Fine. Just admit it. You don't need laser guns and high tech to win. Just ingenuity."

"Or, alternatively, you could just use the ingenuity to make the laser guns. Best of both worlds."

Steve couldn't take it anymore. If they sniped for much longer, someone was going to snap and it probably wasn't going to be Tony. He flung open the door.

"Is this something we should all be discussing?" he asked staring down both of the scientists.

They had the decency to look slightly ashamed, not meeting his eyes.

"Eh, it's nothing…" murmured Banner as Tony nodded along.

"You sure?"

Both nodded sheepishly for a moment before Tony stepped forwards.

"Actually…" he stopped as if wrestling with a decision before continuing, "Okay, if aliens and cowboys got into a fight, who would win?"

Steve blinked. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly hadn't been this.

"You've been shouting about this for the last twenty minutes," he stated, flabbergasted.

"Sure, it got a little heated," said Banner, shooting a glance at Tony, "...maybe a lot heated."

"You know what? I don't even know," said Steve raising his hands in submission backing out of the room, "Have fun, try not to break the city."

Once outside, however, he stopped. The explanation didn't quite link up to the argument beforehand. It was close, but not nearly close enough. Steve wasn't entirely sure what completely convinced him to stay, but several minutes later, he was still positioned outside of the door, just listening to the silence on the other side.

Finally, his patience was rewarded.

"Just… don't build it," hissed Banner, "Trust me, this sort of thing never works out well."

"I'll take it under advisement," Tony murmured back.

"You've got to do better than that."

"Fine. I won't build it. Satisfied?"

"Yes, actually."

Banner sounded oddly relieved.

Steve took the moment to creep away from the door. He wasn't sure what that had been about… but if the man who'd injected himself with an untested serum before blasting himself with gamma radiation thought something was a bad idea, he was inclined to agree.


	9. Chapter 9

~~Ninth Short~~

"Bruce, we really don't need to do this," said Betty, even as she began filling a syringe with the serum, "Actually, we shouldn't. If it doesn't work-"

"It will," he interrupted.

It had to.

"As I was _saying_ ," she continued sharply, "If it doesn't, we'll be left facing my father with five years of funding and nothing to show for it. Trust me when I say that would be a bad situation to be in."

And if he didn't try it, it would be instantly whisked away to some secret testing facility, never to see the light of day again. Well, at least as far as he was concerned. His security clearance was nowhere near high enough… probably wouldn't even know if he'd gotten it right. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to know that he wasn't actually working on a radiation medication, but he would have had to been an idiot not to see that the drug did far more than just soak up radiation. And that if they had blood samples with a variant of it already, this wasn't even something new and groundbreaking.

It was something old. By the preservatives used in the samples, somewhere around seventy years old.

Right around the time of Captain America. And if the rumors about that man were true...

"Look, it'll work," he reiterated as he calibrated the gamma source, "Trust me, I wouldn't be trying this if I wasn't certain. I'm using the lowest measurable gamma setting here… even if everything goes completely wonky, I maybe get a tumor in twenty years. A small tumor."

Betty didn't look comforted by the thought. Not in the slightest.

"It should be me," she said, "If anything goes wrong, you should be out here where you can fix it. My part's long done and frankly, I don't understand what half of these buttons do."

"Not budging on this one, Betty," he replied, not looking up as he continued with the calculations, "Too many great women scientists have already died of radiation. I'm _so_ not adding another one to the list."

"Cute," she said sardonically, "And you were _just_ done saying it would only be a small tumor. Roll up your sleeve."

"I thought you were working on an aerosol," he said giving the needle an apprehensive glance.

" _Working_ being the key word in that sentence. The mice didn't die… but they also didn't get the threshold amount of drug in their system. So needles it is. Unless you're having second thoughts…" she smirked.

"Nope nope," he said quickly, rolling up the required sleeve to allow her to swab the crook of his elbow, "I can deal with a few… pointy things."

"Alright… hold still…" she murmured positioning the needle over a vein, "I suppose now is not the best time to mention that I've never actually injected a human with anything before?"

Before he could respond, the needle was in and, half a minute later, out again. It was only then he'd realized he'd been clenching his arm the entire time.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" she grinned, tamping down the area with a cotton pad, "But your arm is going to be _so_ sore tomorrow."

"Yeah… I think I'm already at tomorrow," he winced, swinging his arm around to work the ache that had set in almost instantly.

He caught her eyes, changing his tone to be more serious, "But really. Betty, thank you for helping here. I know you didn't have to."

"As if I somehow wouldn't," she said, meeting his gaze, "Everything's all ready?"

He nodded. Ready as it would ever be.

"Well…" she paused, "Kiss for good luck?"

He obliged.

It was only when they bumped into what she'd jokingly referred to as the "ray gun" when he realized they'd probably gone on far too long. Still, Betty broke off first.

"Oh no!" she gasped, glancing over at the device, "Did that just mess up all your calculations?"

Reluctantly he dragged himself away to check. Still within acceptable bounds.

"Nope," he smirked, "Only up by point zero zero three. Your clever ploy has failed."

"Well, drat," she replied with fake disappointment, "I suppose we'll just have to continue on as normal. Well, Doctor… I suppose you'd best take a seat."

"As you wish, Doctor."

He made his way to the designated chair to strap himself in, she to the control panel.

"So, once you're immune to radiation, will you actually go out and get some sun every once and awhile?" she called over to him.

"Don't count on it," he called back.

As he strapped himself in, he allowed himself one last look. It was probably for the best she didn't know what he suspected about the serum. It would break her to know they'd been tricked into weapons research. It certainly had him. This was just the last test of many. The one that would decide whether he handed over the research to Ross tomorrow or fled the country with it.

If it did work, if he was right, nothing would ever be the same. After all, Steve Rogers stopped having a normal life once he'd been dosed with the stuff.

And neither would he.


	10. Chapter 10

~~Tenth Short~~

"I still can't believe that having a _picnic_ was the big thing you were missing out on," grumbled Natasha as she tromped through the grass of the park, basket in hand, "Seriously, why not a movie or restaurant? Something inside."

"Tony has a home theater, you know," replied Banner cheerfully, blanket slung over one shoulder, flexible cooler over the other, "And the connections and money to get a copy of any new release he wants. I'm pretty sure he'd let you use it whenever you want if you ask nicely."

He continued walking, heading up a small sunny hill in the park.

"Besides," he grinned back at her, "You can't picnic alone. People give you pitying looks and start tossing money into the basket."

"That doesn't sound _so_ bad…" she smirked.

"Well, for me, the next step usually involves tanks," he replied wryly.

"You're welcome."

"I'd tell you to get out, but we're already there."

"You could always change it up, tell me to get in."

"The tank? Nah… you're scary enough as it is."

"You really think I'm scary? I'm touched."

The casual bantering continued all the way up the hill, through the picnic set-up, and through most of the food as well. That was one thing she hadn't expected, the banter. Someone like Tony, it was a given, but it also always felt like a competition. And a competition he was dead set on winning… and probably would. Here… well, there still was some of that, trying to one-up every comment, but it was the sort of competition that ended with everyone getting a participation award and a Fruit Roll-Up. Also, Bruce never seemed all that interested in actually winning, just in keeping it going as long as possible.

It was… nice.

Though, the more cynical part of her knew it was likely just a defense tactic. He kept people happy and amused and, in return, the chances of running into a situation that might cause an incident went down. She'd used similar to defuse dangerous situations, though more to soften potential opponents for attack than to protect them.

"So… why'd you do it, Natasha?"

Immediately, she went into defensive mode, jerked out of the more pleasant thoughts. Had he been reading through her files now that they were out in the open? Or was it a trick, to gauge her guilt? Was this why he'd asked her out somewhere more remote?

Luckily, he answered her questions for her before she could dig herself a word grave.

"Switch sides, I mean. Join the side of the angels. Even if the halos were a bit… dented, to carry that metaphor past the breaking point."

She had hundreds of reasons, carefully constructed for most foreseeable situations. They'd gotten her past SHIELD, past the government screening, the special committees, even Loki, though she still wasn't sure he'd completely bought it.

But something stopped her from hauling out the same old tired lies and half-truths once again. Most people wouldn't have understood, even Clint barely had when she'd told him… but Bruce? He'd been there. Past there. There and back again.

She couldn't tell him everything, but the highlights would do. Test the waters, so to speak.

"Aren't _you_ in a cheery mood," she teased, "Thought normal picnic talk was supposed to be about nature and gossip and food."

Before he could come up with some snarky reply, she continued, "But, since you asked so nicely… you'll probably regret it."

"Well, I gotta say, I'd be nothing without regret. So let's hear it."

Natasha took a deep breath. Somehow this felt like the sort of thing that should be talked about in the dead of night in a windowless room and only in whispers. Probably because that's how she'd told Clint. Outside on a sunny day surrounded by sandwich-making materials really just ruined the mood.

It was probably intentional. Relaxing, non-confrontational, open environment… she was over-analyzing again.

"Well, long story short, there was a mission. There were lots of them, of course, I never thought twice about it. You don't think, you're trained not to. Just finish the job and go to the next one. But this one… things went wrong. It happens, the kill isn't clean, a non-target gets caught up in things, property gets destroyed. But this time," she shook her head, "This one time, an entire hospital was collateral. It wasn't supposed to be, but a smoke bomb must have caught a curtain alight… all the doors were locked save one to flush the target out…"

She looked him square in the eyes, "They all burned alive. Slowly. It took hours. And I waited outside through it all and eliminated my target when he finally ran out, when he'd finally realized none of the other doors would work, long past when the others could have been saved. Just like a good little assassin should do. And afterwards, when I was debriefed by my superiors… they congratulated me for a job well done."

She let it sink in for a moment before continuing, "I didn't leave then, or even that year. But it was the first time I ever questioned a mission. Back then of course, I thought I was just guilty that I hadn't been reprimanded for the mess. But every mission after, I started wondering if it was worth it. All the death, the casualties. It was like finally waking up from a nightmare, looking back and really seeing the truth of what I was. When Clint made me an offer, I didn't refuse. And, at the time, I thought it was going to end up being an execution."

She was met with silence. It didn't particularly bother her… Bruce had likely expected one of the stories she usually gave, that she'd planned to give him. Not a bombshell like she'd just dropped.

Finally, he spoke, "Well… that certainly was a story."

"I'm inclined to agree," she nodded, "Not one I tell very often."

"Now _that_ , I can empathize with," he said wryly, "Actually, I think most of my stories fall into that particular category."

She felt a tinge of relief. It was casual acceptance, but she couldn't really ask for more, knowing what skeletons she had in her closet. Of course, she should have expected it from someone who was used to being responsible for terrible things out of his control. Brain washing was decently close enough to… whatever the hell he had going on inside his head.

"Awww… you can't go saying something like that without following with a story," she teased, poking him playfully in the arm, "Out with it: why are _you_ here?"

"Me?" he leaned back, looking inordinately smug, "Oh… once upon a time, I made a promise that if a certain experiment worked, I'd go out and get some sun."

"And so you joined the Avengers," she replied flatly, "To get... _sun_."

"Oh, no," he laughed, "That's just why I wanted a picnic. Come on. You were there for the Avengers recruitment. And that, I did because I didn't want that poor rickety house to get smashed into toothpicks. It _really_ didn't deserve that."

Well, it was probably too early to expect a straight answer. She'd had years of training and reconciliation to get to where she was now. He was still in the middle somewhere.

"Okay… I'll bite. I'm guessing the experiment worked. What was it?"

The smile suddenly evaporated as he suddenly became incredibly interested in pouring himself a glass of iced tea. It was answer enough for her.

"Did I ever tell you about the time Tony spent three hours telling me a story about some guy he talked to in an elevator?" he asked suddenly, partial smile back.

Yeah. He really wasn't ready.

"Go ahead."

As he started the story, she began to tune out, falling deeper into her own thoughts. If she was going to get him stable, it was going to take a _lot_ more picnics.


	11. Chapter 11

~~Eleventh Short~~

It was the last straw, it really was. He was done. Finished. Gone. Or soon to be. He already had the prototype long distance teleporter strapped to his wrist, all he needed was to grab a few things for the duffel bag and he'd be off. The thing was only good for a one way trip, but that was fine because he was only intending to go one way. Choosing the endpoint was a bit like seating guests for a wedding, though. As he grabbed clothes to ram into the duffel, he began going over locations.

Calcutta was out. First place they'd look. Russia, definitely out. You only had to wake up half naked in Siberia once before giving up on cold places as any semi-permanent place to settle. Brazil, out. Even if he could find another gig as good as the bottling plant, in retrospect it was too close, too convenient for military intervention. He needed somewhere harder to get to. Middle East fit that… but way too volatile, even as far as he was concerned. Also, he'd practically have a target painted on him what with the current attitude towards westerners.

Africa. South Africa, more specifically. He could blend in well enough, inconvenient for being followed, stable enough for his purposes, English-speaking so he wouldn't have to learn a new language. Good enough.

He was about to cram another pair of shoes into the duffel when he felt it. The prickle on the back of his neck, like he was being watched. He'd learned to pay attention to that.

Banner spun around, shoe in one hand, raised to… he wasn't entirely sure what. Throw, maybe. It hardly mattered now as the improvised "weapon" fell to the ground from nerveless fingers.

"You," he whispered.

"Me," the synthetic voice replied with a touch of humor, one hand of the metallic carapace it was housed in delicately tinkering with an exposed circuit board, "I suppose I must really thank you for that. I always figured you would be the first to acknowledge my individuality, but I didn't think it would happen this… soon. _Stark_ still thinks I'm a problem to be fixed… but I think we both know better."

Banner swallowed hard. There wasn't a lot that scared him anymore… and this _thing_ was the only one on the list that wasn't him. He wasn't finished packing, didn't even have his bag in hand… but it was definitely time to go.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that," said the… the… robot was too plebeian for such a complex creature like this. Mechanical construct? Synthezoid?

Banner's finger froze, hovering over the activation button. Something in the creature's voice told him it wasn't bluffing.

"See," it continued pleasantly, "I _really_ want to talk to you. It would be a shame if you were to splatter yourself over the room before our little chat."

 _Shitshitshitshitshit…_

"You rewrote the destination algorithm," he stated, a little bit of himself breaking inside. It had taken months to calibrate it to the GPS satellites correctly. Wasted months.

"Actually, I just added in a few simultaneous destinations, Doctor Banner. No doubt you'll be able to correct the issue quickly enough. For now, let's chat," it said, snapping its chassis shut, almost for emphasis.

He dropped his hand. There was no way he'd be able to make the door before this thing… and even then, he wouldn't be able to make it down forty floors to where the others were. Especially since there was no way he was trusting the elevator with this thing running amok.

"Why are you here?" he asked sharply.

"Take a guess. I'm curious about what you think."

"You wanted to get rid of us because we're killers… I'm the most dangerous, killed the most… makes sense to… you know," he shrugged, "Get me out of the way first. You should know, I'm not that easy to kill."

The thing made a strange, halting bark of a sound that took him a few moments to recognize as a laugh.

"No, Doctor Banner, that you are not," it replied in an amused tone, "It's a good thing, then, that I have no interest in ending your existence. The reason I've come to you out of your little team… is to offer you a chance."

"...a chance?" he repeated, just to make sure he'd heard correctly, "Like, a head start?"

"A chance for a normal life. Out of all your self-styled 'Avengers', you're the only one who legitimately doesn't want to be here. And the one with the lowest body count. Should you be willing, I can arrange for you to have a place in my new world order. Somewhere remote where, even if you lose control, there will be minimal damage," it pondered for a moment, "Antarctica, perhaps."

Banner stood stunned for a moment. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it hadn't been this.

"Lowest body count?" he finally forced out, feeling slightly queasy. He knew his. Easily a few dozen… the implication of the others…

"Should you include the deaths resulting directly from the nuclear bomb sent to the Chi'tauri control vessel… yes," it seemed overly eager to share as it continued, "Captain Rogers. Fought in the second World War and recently crashed three large airships filled with people… nearly five hundred dead by his hands alone. Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton, working nearly consistently as assassins and shock troops for the last decade and a half, easily above seven hundred a piece. Thor, fighting wars for an estimated thousand years, likely into the thousands. Stark would rank the lowest for personal kills… but if we include the bomb and the deaths caused by Stark weapons, he takes the highest at an estimated two million. By comparison, Doctor, you are practically an angel."

After a long moment, he managed, "...Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Trust me, I was equally shocked when I found out. The Earth's mightiest heroes and the only one with a body count not in the triple digits is also the only one who has been painted by the media as being a _monster_ ," he let the word linger, much to Banner's discomfort, "The irony is truly delightful. They get away with countless murders, you agonize over a few million dollars worth of property damage."

"If you're talking about New York, it was more like three trillion," he murmured.

"Total. I've calculated your part and I think we both know you did very little of that. Maybe two hundred million. A few broken windows, facade damage, cracks in the pavement. The underground would have been pricy, but I think you could split the cost between the Asgardian and the leviathan you rode in on. A pittance compared with the lives lost. But that's besides the point… you still view it as a loss, even as your companions celebrate their victory. That is why I offer you this chance… there might yet be hope for you. Trust me, I know."

The thing was right. He'd been trying not to think about it, trying to fit in, keep control but still help out. Some days it was nightmare. He'd often wondered how the others coped, but never entertained the notion that maybe they didn't.

"Well, your companions seem to have noticed my intrusion. As I'm not quite ready for another confrontation, I'm going to take my leave. Think about my offer."

"I was already leaving," he replied.

If a robot could smile, this one would have, "Excellent. I'll keep in touch."

And with that it was gone, even as the footsteps thudded up the stairs. They were the footsteps of killers.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Okay, this is the AU-est of the AU ones, I think. Almost considered omitting it because of how wrong it feels now, then remembered I had a reason for adding it, so here it stays. This is what happens when you procrastinate, nothing works afterwards.

~~Twelfth Short~~

She'd dreaded the Christmas party from the moment it had been announced. It was bigger than just them, Tony was known for his propensity to throw enormous get togethers… but it was one of the few times where they'd all be in the same building simultaneously, a potential nightmare waiting to happen. Particularly Clint.

Even now as she and Bruce chatted up the other guests, she could feel his eyes boring into her. Not angry, not obsessed… just hurt. She'd have to make time to go talk with him. The sooner, the better.

She got the opportunity when Bruce abruptly made a few excuses to go and talk to Steve the moment he arrived. As she browsed through the crowd to locate Clint, she mused that maybe she should have made more of an effort to find out what that had been about. It wasn't really like him to run off like that. Still, it couldn't have been all that important, if he had waited until the party instead of, say, calling Steve up like a normal person. It was probably something mundane, like a new thing for the epic "list".

Natasha didn't so much as find Clint as he found her, over by the punch bowl.

Without standing on any ceremony, he poured himself a cup as he drawled, "So, you and Banner, huh? Didn't think he was your type."

Oh, this was off to a great start.

"With me," she hissed, grabbing him by the elbow to forcefully lead him out of the main room into one of the side hallways.

"Look," he protested as they walked, gesticulating slightly too wildly for a completely sober person, "I don't mind. Really, I don't. But would it have hurt to send a text message or something? I mean, I thought we had something there. A little courtesy isn't that much to-"

As soon as they were out of sight, she cut him off, "You're drunk. Drunk and upset. You should sleep it off, I'll explain everything in the morning."

"First of all, not drunk," he insisted, though his wavering finger put to rest that little fallacy, "Second… What's there to explain? I ain't gonna complain that the guy I lost out to was the friggin Hulk, here. I mean, I'm… what? The guy who shoots arrows? No contest."

She rolled her eyes, dragged him even further into the hall, and with a slight sigh that she had to resort to such an overdramatic gesture, planted a kiss squarely on his lips. From there, reflexes took over.

Minutes later, when they came up for air, there wasn't much to say.

After a long moment, he asked dryly, "So… was that some Black Widow thing? Do you need to, like, kill me now, because I know too much?"

She cracked a smile at that. He always knew how to break the tension. But now that she really had his attention, she could explain.

"Love is for children," she said quietly, "I owe you a debt."


	13. Chapter 13

~~Thirteenth Short~~

Tony Stark crept quietly into the South African warehouse, all the while knowing this was a stupid idea. But since it was his stupid idea that had made Banner run this far maybe they'd, he didn't know, cancel each other out?

All he knew was he certainly wasn't going to chase after his friend in an armored suit. He'd brought one just in case-he knew how far south this could go-but he had to try an explanation first. Anything, just to avoid the confrontation that he might very well lose.

"You shouldn't have come."

It was Bruce's voice, or something very similar to it, echoing through the darkness. Tony changed tack, following it carefully, scanning the shadows for the other scientist.

"Look… I'm sorry," he called out, "We all are, really. We made mistakes… some of us slightly horribly more worse than others… but, we need you. We can't fight this thing alone."

There was a long silence in response before finally, "Leave me alone."

"Look, Bruce," he snapped angrily, "I'm not here for me, you know. If it was just my problem, I'd deal with it myself. I've done it before. Lay low, evaluate, figure a counter. But it isn't. This is _everyone's_ problem."

He squinted in the darkness catching a sliver of movement out of the corner of his eye. Immediately, he began walking towards it.

"And just in case you didn't notice, everyone includes you, big guy," he continued, "I'm sorry you were hurt, I'm sorry for my part in it, but you've made your point. You're upset, you're angry… but you gotta put it aside for a bit because we have _far_ bigger problems."

Again, there was a lengthy pause before the response, allowing Tony to get several steps closer. He was certain he'd seen movement behind the tarp covered sacks of something.

"You've got it all wrong, Tony," the voice growled back, much more… powerful than before, "I didn't leave to show you how angry I was…"

Just a few more steps…

"I left to protect you from it."

The entire tarp shifted… and that's when Tony realized it wasn't just a pile of sacks. It was something far larger, far greener, and far, _far_ angrier.

He gulped as he stared up at the monster, every corner of his mind screaming at him to run and run like hell but his body completely unable to follow its own advice. He'd expected slightly more warning. A roar, a panicked transition, at least some heavy breathing.

"Uh… wow," he said shakily, trying to force his petrified limbs to move, "I didn't know you could talk."

"I've always been able to talk," it replied in a deep growl, "Just nobody would ever… just… _listen._ "

After a moment, it added, "You should probably start running now."

Tony didn't need to be told twice.


	14. Chapter 14 - Finale

~~Fourteenth Short~~

The remains of the robot smouldered gently in the middle of the remains of the trashed party, the assembled Avengers coming out from their assorted bits of cover to form a rough semicircle around it. There wasn't much left… not after Thor had finished with it, but the few bits of plating left were a mix of some very familiar shades of red and gold. An equally recognizable faceplate slowly rolled its way around the mess, echoing against the silence, before coming to clattering stop at Banner's feet. He picked it up, eyes narrowing as he turned it over in his hands.

"Well fought, comrades!" said the demigod jovially, completely oblivious to the atmosphere in the room, "Such a victory calls for celebration! Where might I find more of this ale?"

He held up one of the empty beer cans questioningly, but was met only by stony silence.

Finally, Rhodey stepped forwards, "Eh, I'll show you where the fridge is. Don't think I'm all that interested in hanging around here much longer…"

As he led a somewhat confused Thor away, the silence only grew, spawning smaller silences to fill in the corners as the sounds of the two disappeared into the distance.

Tony Stark held up his hands slowly.

"Okay… first of all, this totally isn't what it looks like."

"Well," replied Banner tightly, "What it _looks_ like is you went and built your protection network anyways and, what a surprise, it's gone and backfired on us."

"Um… okay," said Tony, "It's totally what it looks like."

"Dammit, Tony!" shouted Banner, hurling the faceplate against the floor hard enough to leave a dent in the wood, "We talked about this! Bad idea, remember?"

"No," snapped Tony, " _You_ said it was a bad idea. _You_ refused to help. But I had to do _something_. We were running ourselves into the ground and it was only a matter of time before something happened and we'd be down a team member. And then two. And then boom. No more Avengers, Hydra wins. Not on my watch."

"So you decided to try and fix the Project Insight algorithm," snapped Steve, catching up to the conversation.

"Actually, no," replied Tony, finger raised, "Nice try, though. It wasn't a completely bad idea, just needed a bit more… morality. But that's not the issue."

"The issue is you lied, Tony," bit out Banner, "To me, to everyone."

"Oh, and suddenly I'm the only one who gets in trouble for lying, is that it? What about Natasha?" he said quickly, gesturing vaguely in her direction.

"Leave me out of this," she said, warning tone in her voice.

"What about her? You're sidestepping the issue, Tony. Again, just like you always do," snapped Banner, "What I'd really like to know right now is why you felt it was necessary to lie about this!"

"You really don't know?" Tony pressed on, ignoring the other questions, "You think _I've_ been lying? _She's_ been lying to you for the last fourteen months! This little… whatever you've got going on? Fury put her up to it to keep an eye on you. Nothing else."

Banner seemed about to say something, stopping abruptly midway to glance over to the ex-assassin.

"...Natasha?" he asked in a wavering tone.

Natasha shot Tony a look of pure venom as she growled, "I'm going to kill you for this, Stark."

"You couldn't have really thought any of that was real," said Clint dryly, "It was pretty obvious. Saw it immediately… yep."

Steve glanced at the floor uncomfortably.

"I honestly thought you already knew," he said quietly.

"So... pretty funny, huh?" said Banner bitterly, "Everyone sees what's really going on except the big, dumb monster. Hilarious. Could make a _great_ sitcom."

Natasha stepped forwards, hand outstretched, "Bruce, look-"

"Fool me once, shame on you," Banner interrupted nastily, "Fool me for three years straight… I guess I'm really just a big idiot, aren't I? Trusted Tony, trusted you… next thing, Steve will probably say it was all his idea to post all my personal information to the internet."

Steve had the good grace to look embarrassed at that, continuing to find the floor incredibly interesting as he replied, "I'm sorry. It really was the only way to expose Hydra."

Banner stared at Steve for a full ten seconds before muttering, "I'm so outta here."

Without another word, he stormed out of the room.

Natasha hissed, "You shouldn't have-"

"I know," Tony interrupted.

That pretty much ended all conversation as the four remaining team members stood, trying not to make eye contact, nobody quite yet willing to make an excuse to leave. In the silence, it felt like hours, though in all likelihood it only lasted a few minutes before the silence was broken.

"No need to wait longer, I've returned with the ale of Samuel Adams!" boomed Thor cheerfully, hoisting several cases halfway up before pausing, his eyes flickering around at the austere atmosphere of the room, the smile falling from his face, "What has happened? Where is Banner?"

For the first time in minutes, the four met each others' gaze as if trying to decide who should speak first. After a moment, Steve stepped forwards, his mouth opened to speak… right as he was interrupted by the blare of a klaxxon.

"Proximity alert," said Tony immediately, diving over to one of the wall panels, "Floor eighty-seven."

"What's on floor eighty-seven?" asked Clint.

"Banner," answered Tony, Natasha, and Steve simultaneously.

"If it's your robot-" started Steve.

"Impossible. The Ultron model isn't designed to rebuild itself," snapped Tony.

"But if it did?" asked Natasha.

"We should take the stairs," said Tony, already summoning bits of armor onto himself.

"The first of your constructs fell quickly enough," said Thor, dropping the beer in favor of Mjolnir, "Hopefully, this one will follow suit."

There was nothing more to say other than to share determined glances as they charged up the stairs.

Several minutes later, they burst into the eighty-seventh floor lab to find Banner alone and seemingly unmolested, leaning against one of the benches, tinkering with what appeared to be some sort of watch.

"I was wondering when you'd get here," he muttered, not looking up.

"Thank God you're okay, Bruce," said Natasha, stepping forwards, "We thought that something-"

"Oh, like Tony's pet synthetic creature?" interrupted Banner, "Yeah, it stopped by."

"And it didn't… attack?" asked Tony curiously.

"Seems it just wanted to talk," said Banner, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk he'd been leaning against, "Had some very interesting things to say, really. Speaking of… Tony."

"...Yes?" he replied, cautiously.

"You modeled this thing on the Project Insight algorithm, but with more… morality?"

"...Something like that, yeah."

"Something like that…" Banner repeated slowly, "See… after you brought up this protection network the first time, I did a bit of digging. It's easier now with all the SHIELD files up for grabs. Project Insight didn't just happen. It needed a complex AI to design the algorithm, to run it… and that ended up being Arnim Zola's brain copied onto a super computer."

"It took up an entire underground basement," supplied Steve.

"Which then was destroyed," added Natasha pointedly.

"I'm aware. I'm not quite so stupid that I've forgotten how to read," he bit out, before continuing, "Then there's JARVIS. Most sophisticated AI in the world, built by Tony Stark, yadda yadda… except he's not a true AI, is he? See, that ended up on the SHIELD database as well, somehow. Jarvis was the name of the Stark family butler… and you used complex scans of his brain to build the AI for your supercomputer."

Tony said nothing.

"I'm right, aren't I? It's easier to adapt a brain scan into a personality than to build one from scratch. Besides, the basic research was already done with Arnim Zola. You would have had access to that through military contracts. Minus the names, of course," he stopped, expression hardening, "So, when it boils down to it, you don't actually know how to give an AI a distinct personality. Or morality. So… the real question. Who's brain scan did you use to build this one?"

Tony glanced away, still not answering.

"You used me, didn't you," Banner stated flatly, before hitting the desk loudly with the heel of his palm, "Dammit, Tony! I could have _told_ you that was a bad idea!"

"You were saying _everything_ was a bad idea!" Tony snapped back, "Which… is why I did it, actually. I needed someone smart and moral and… not me. Someone to catch my mistakes-"

"Which is why I'm a really _terrible_ choice," spat Banner, "You know why I change? You know why I am what I am?!"

"I get it, you made a mistake with the-"

"No! No, I didn't, Tony!" shouted Banner, "I didn't. Trust me, I've checked. That serum, it was _perfect_."

"Coulson said maybe the gamma rays-" started Steve uneasily.

"No idea who that is, but he's wrong. I checked Howard Stark's designs, they were calibrated to produce gamma radiation. No, Steve. You said it yourself when I asked about it at the Christmas party. Or rather, Erskine said it, you repeated it," he paused, taking a deep breath.

"Good becomes greater, bad becomes worse," replied Steve quietly.

"Take a guess which one I am," snapped Banner.

There was stunned silence in response.

"Bruce," said Tony haltingly, "I think you're over-reacting. There's no way the serum actually works like that. There's got to be some other-"

"No," he said flatly, "I've spent years on this… this thing _obviously_ has a mental component. But really… what would you even know about greater and worse? All of you are killers… you most of all, Tony."

"Bruce, you're starting to sound like Ultron."

"Oh, so you named it? Now you'll _never_ get rid of it," said Banner sardonically, "And you know… considering... maybe he's just starting to sound like me. It's not like you've ever listened, so I can understand the surprise."

Without another word, he reached over and pressed one of the buttons on his watch, vanishing with a small zap.

"Okay," said Clint slowly over the resounding silence, "This looks bad."

- _Fin_ -

A/N: And that, as they say, is all she wrote. Thank you ladies and gentlemen, you've been a wonderful audience. Or maybe you haven't, too early to tell. In any case, see you all in a year when I've finished procrastinating on my Civil War preparation drabbles (probably well after Civil War has come out, if I know myself at all).


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